


Circumstance

by sea



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, but it's a dream so idk, for chapter 5 onwards?, slightly underage sex?, spoilers ahoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-01 06:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16759780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea/pseuds/sea
Summary: Circumstance led him to try to build a life, build a family. But there's one person John can't seem to let go of.





	1. Chapter 1

At night John doesn't dream of Abigail. Abigail was a woman he wound up with by circumstance, a woman he never truly loved but _tried_ to love. He wasn't fortunate to grow up in a family (aside from the gang but that was one messed up family). From what he'd seen by observing the people in towns they passed through, a family was meant to be two parents, partners, and whether or not they loved each other, well, that didn't much matter. After a year of soul searching, he decided to try to provide that for Jack. He stayed with them and, even though he was pretty damn sure Jack wasn't even his son, he tried. He built them a fucking house for Christ's sake. But it wasn't good enough, they never came back, and he wasn't going to go looking for people that didn't want him in their life. Because as hard as he tried it wasn't them he dreamt of, it wasn't them he missed, and it wasn't thoughts of Abigail that woke him from sleep every night with an erection straining against his sleep pants.

John felt guilty. Not about Abigail, she made her choice. The truth was that he's still full of want and desire for him. Arthur. After all these years of him being gone, he couldn't shake the feelings he's long had and the fact that they never had a chance to act on them or even for him to find out if Arthur at all felt the same way about him. The memories and dreams are all he has left, though they're as vivid as if he said goodbye to him on that mountain just yesterday. Maybe he shouldn't even wish for anything more than that. They had their time together, he just wished he'd known how short it would be.

John rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his head with a blanket, willing his erection to go away. But when he closes his eyes all he sees is Arthur. 

_Arthur- in his mid 20's dragging him along a dusty street. Arthur- pressed up against him as they ducked down an alley, his hand covering John's mouth to keep him quiet. Arthur- staring into his eyes as though trying to anchor him to the world._

_John's heart pounds in his chest for reasons entirely different from the sprint they'd just done. Arthur looks around, removing his hand from John's mouth when he sees the coast is clear, he turns back to John with a smirk on his lips. John looks up at him and, this time, he leans up to kiss that smirk right off Arthur's mouth. Arthur is shocked at first but quickly kisses him back. John parts his lips for Arthur's eager tongue to explore him and Arthur groans into his mouth, actually groans. John's harder than he's ever been and he feels Arthur is just as hard as he grinds against him, pushing him further into the building John's pinned to._

_Arthur glides his hand down John's front, cupping him through his jeans. He undoes John's belt buckle and fly, easing his way in until he grabs hold of his hardness. And John can't believe he doesn't come right then. But Arthur slowly strokes him, whispering in his ear "You're a good boy ain't you, Johnny?" And John nods because fuck if he can trust his own voice not to come out a shaky stutter with Arthur teasing his cock the way he is. He feels an ache in his belly too soon, feels Arthur swipe the pad of his thumb over the leaking head of his cock, the smirk is back on his face as a quiet chuckle falls from his lips. One look at that smile and John is coming, spilling over Arthur's hand, as a low moan escapes him. John pants as Arthur wipes his hand off on his jeans and gives him a lopsided smile._

John reached for a towel on the nightstand, wiping his hand and tucking himself back into his pants. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, but he willed the dam not to break, exhaling shakily. He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, concentrating on breathing steady breaths. Somehow he managed to fall asleep but his dreams were still filled with nothing but Arthur.

\---------

Abigail, Sadie, Charles, Uncle, hell, even a group of Pinkertons. These were the people he'd expect to be waking him up with a loud knock at the door before the sun had even risen.

John rubbed his eyes and groaned. He'd just fallen into a deep sleep only to be woken. He grabbed his spare revolver from under the bed and threw a jacket on, tucking it into the pocket.

Reaching for the door, he growled "What?" before it was even open. Who he did not expect to see standing there was the man that visited his dreams every night. Arthur Morgan. John slammed the door so hard the dishes in the kitchen cabinet rattled. He was starting to see things. He was losing it. _Easy there, John._ He told himself. He took two steadying breaths, pinching his arm so hard it would bruise within the hour. It hurt. Not a dream?

Another two knocks. "Can't say I'm surprised by your reaction." The muffled voice said, a voice he hadn't heard in years. "You think you could let me in, though? 'S a bit cold out here." The voice drawled.

John slowly reached for the door again with shaky hands. He opened it a crack, taking in the face he'd longed to see in person again all those years. 

"It can't- Y-y-you can't..." John spoke, peering through the crack. He scoffed internally at his inability to speak.

"Marston. It can and I can. Now step aside." Arthur pushed against the door and John stepped out from behind it, allowing him entry. He stepped inside, turning to face John as he shut the door behind him. "Fancy house you got here, Marston."

John was silent, still in shock to see the man before him. He reached out a hand toward Arthur slowly as though expecting him to disappear once he made contact. He gingerly touched his fingertips to Arthur's chest. It was solid as he flattened his palm against it. "How..." It wasn't a question but it demanded an answer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these chapters are a little short. I've got an outline in mind so hopefully a new chapter will be posted soon. Thanks for reading! :D

"You needed to start over." Arthur said simply. "Couldn't be worrying about me when things were so hot. I wanted you and your family to get out, and look at that, you did. Looks like you been busy, too. Where'd those two get to anyhow?"

John stared at his intertwined fingers in his lap, trying to make sense of what Arthur was saying, but he could barely focus on the words coming out of his mouth.

"So let me get this straight. You decide on your own what's best for _me_ and I'm supposed to, what, just go along with it?" John couldn't help the tinge of anger to his voice. "That weren't your decision to make, Arthur." John suddenly felt like he'd been violated, robbed of something precious to him. His emotions began to bubble up inside him, though he tried his best to keep a lid on, he never was really good at keeping his feelings inside.

Arthur tapped his finger against the arm of the chair he sat in, keeping his cool, he was good at that. It only infuriated John more.

"Safer this way." Arthur said quietly after a few moments. "Didn't need you getting in deeper because of me."

John rolled his eyes at that. Then he remembered something that had been pushed to the back of his mind with the revelation that Arthur was alive after all this time. "And what about your cough, I thought you was dying?"

"So did I," Arthur chuckled. "Turns out it weren't as bad as all that. The doc in Saint Denis was wrong. Went to see some other feller and he put me right."

John leaned back in his chair, running his hand through his hair. He didn't know what to say or do. His emotions were swirling in his stomach and making him feel ill. He had mourned Arthur for going on 9 years. The one person in his life he looked up to and, if he's honest with himself, truly loved. And now he just walks right back into his life.

John wordlessly stood up and walked to his room, shutting the door behind him. Arthur at least had the good sense not to follow him.

\---------

For the second time in a day John was awoken by knocking at the door. He pulled the blanket over his head and ignored it. He heard the shuffle of footsteps, the door opening, and quiet voices.

"Marston." Arthur called from outside his door, rapping his knuckles against it. "Time to get up. Sadie's here so why don't you make yourself decent."

John groused as he threw on some clothes and headed out, using his fingers to comb his short hair into place.

Sadie and Arthur were sitting at his kitchen table drinking coffee, a sight he thought he would never see. He felt a pang in his chest. Arthur. Last night hadn't been a dream.

Arthur poured him a cup as he joined them and slid it across the table. John nodded towards him in thanks.

"Back to what you was sayin," Arthur said, looking to Sadie then John.

"You may have seen or heard of a new gang in these parts?" Sadie eyed John. "Not sure what they're calling themselves but they're a bunch of wild folk. Killin' and rapin' and mutilatin'. They're holed up out by Owanjila lake outside Strawberry."

"Haven't been out that way in a while. I heard things in Blackwater about folks going out that way and disappearing though," John said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"So what about these fellers?" Arthur asked, tapping his fingers on the table. He always was impatient. John smiled to himself, seeing it again gave him a warm feeling.

"What are you smilin' at, boy?" Arthur turned to John, giving him a questioning look. 

"Nothin'" John chuckled. "Just...nothin'"

Sadie cleared her throat. "As I was _sayin'_. About these fellers-" she shot a look at Arthur. "I think you might be interested in the leader of them mongrels. You may have heard of him? Micah Bell?" Sadie smirked at her big reveal.

Arthur slammed his coffee cup against the table, some of the contents splashing out onto the surface. "Micah?"

"He's alive?" John questioned, his eyebrows shooting up. Sadie nodded still smirking.

"Not for long," Arthur said under his breath, standing so suddenly he nearly knocked his chair over.

"Hold on now," John grabbed Arthur's wrist and pulled him back down to sit in the chair. "We ain't gonna just go run off after him without a plan. That ain't how we do things."

Sadie nodded, agreeing with him for once. "John's right. He's got a huge crew and they ain't gonna make it easy on us. We won't be able to touch Micah if we ain't smart about it."

Arthur audibly grumbled. "Fine. What's this plan then?"


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur didn't want revenge. As Dutch always said, revenge was a luxury they couldn't afford, but this wasn't revenge. Micah had to be stopped. He'd hurt too many people and ruined too many lives. He was an evil that Arthur wanted to rid the world of, not for himself but for everyone that lived in it.

Arthur pulled on his boots and grabbed his lancaster repeater, slinging it over his back. It clicked against his bandolier as he quietly walked toward the door, trying not to wake John in the other room. He knew that John would be angry at him but he couldn't find it in him to care, not when so much was at stake.

Mounting his horse, Arthur stowed his rifle on the side and spurred the dappled thoroughbred, patting her as she sped up to a gallop. "Let's go, girl." He spoke in a soothing voice, giving her another quick pat.

The ride from Beecher's Hope to Owanjila wasn't terribly long but it felt like it, the rain that had started as soon as he left didn't help matters. Arthur's vision was obstructed and he was cold and miserable by the time he'd made it to Strawberry.

The shop was just opening as he hitched his horse outside the general store, a quick stop to pick up extra ammunition and a bite to eat. A man rushed out of the shop, bumping into Arthur as he did.

"Sorry, partner," The man said tipping his hat at Arthur. He nodded in reply.

They had tried to come up with a plan to attack Micah's camp. They were supposed to all ride out first thing in the morning and get the layout of the camp, formulate an actual plan, then prep and get supplies to put it into action the following night. But Arthur couldn't sleep and felt like they were wasting time. For all he knew Sadie's information was old, they could be preparing to move right now. They could be gone by the time they did all that. No, this was better. He could sneak around a lot easier by himself than all three of them and see what they were working with. Then they could set a plan and attack by that the evening.

Arthur stretched as he got back in the saddle. Taking an apple out of his satchel, he took a bit and leaned forward to feed the rest to his horse. The horse neighed appreciatively as he gave her a small kick and they took off from Strawberry. He didn't notice the man from the shop mounting up across the way, outside the hotel.

As the tree line outside Owanjila came into view, Arthur slowed his horse, looking for signs of a camp - smoke, tents, the usual. He dismounted and pulled his binoculars from the saddlebag. As he pulled them up to his eyes he heard the snap of twigs and everything went black.

Arthur's eyes were bleary as he tried to open them. The world spun and he felt ill. He vaguely heard voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. His head was pounding but he felt like he was floating, until he wasn't. The impact of the ground as he was thrown jostled his head even more but his vision was starting to get clearer as someone moved into his field of sight, tall and caked with dirt, and a greasy blonde moustache.

"Well, hello there Mr. Morgan," Micah said with a devious smile. "How nice of you to grace us with your presence."

\---------

"J-john!" Someone was shaking him. "John! Get up right now! JOHN!"

John opened one eye to see Sadie looming over him, her hands on his shoulders. 

"What is it?" He asked, not trying to hide his annoyance at being woken in such a manner.

"Arthur." Sadie answered in a panic.

"Gonna need more than that, Sadie," John sat up quickly, throwing off the blanket and heading for the wardrobe. He slipped on some jeans over his union suit.

"Arthur, he's missing. I went to go wake him so we could get an early start and he weren't in his room." She sounded exhasperated and breathless.

"Did you check the barn?" John asked, buckling his belt and pulling on his boots.

"No, John, why I didn't even _think_ to do that." She said sarcastically in a helpless voice, rolling her eyes and making a show of it. "'Course I did! He ain't here. My guess is he went off after Micah on his own."

John's eyes went wide with realization as he grabbed his rifle and ran out the door. He mounted his horse and rode off before Sadie could even think to follow him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning things are a bit violent in this chapter. I'll be updating the tags accordingly. Outline is finished through the end of the story so should be more soon and I believe it will be coming to an end soon. Thanks for reading!

Arthur tried not to move his face at all as he lifted his head to look at the horrible man in front of him. The cuts were deep and burned with any twitch he made, one under his eye, one across his cheek, one over his eyebrow.

"And here I was thinking you were dead, Morgan." Micah sneered, wiping the blood from his knuckles with a dirty rag. "Or maybe that was just wishful thinking." 

Arthur took in a labored breath and answered, ignoring the twinge of pain the second he opened his mouth, "Now how could I go off and die without killing you first?"

Micah's fist connected with Arthur's ribs in a painful blow that took all the air from his lungs. "What was that now?" Micah raised his voice, "I couldn't hear you!"

Arthur coughed and sputtered but fought to get the words out. "I said I'm gonna kill you."

"One more time?!" Micah yelled, a loud crack sounding as he landed another blow against his ribs.

Arthur's breathing was heavy as blood dripped slowly from the cuts on his face into the dirt floor below him.

"That's what I thought you said," Micah chuckled. "You know, Morgan, I feel kind of bad for you." He paused, daring Arthur to reply but he didn't. "Ain't no one coming to save you this time."

Another punch landed across Arthur's jaw. "I kind of like it this way. Just me and you in the end." Micah smiled, a nasty smile, the smile that made Arthur's stomach turn. "No one to stop me from putting you out of your misery." 

\---------

John had never pushed his horse harder. She neighed and shook her head as they galloped through Strawberry, nearly running into several people. They jumped out of the way, yelling obscenities. "Come on, girl, nearly there!" John tried to soothe her but continued to spur her, promising to make it up to her later.

As they came through the forest he pulled up on the reins, barely letting her come to a stop before sliding down out of the saddle and taking his guns from their holsters. John immediately landed three headshots on the men sitting around the fire, as soon as they stood up before they had even pulled their guns.

Maybe it wasn't smart for John to go racing into Micah's camp without even knowing for a fact that Arthur was there. But John was never very smart. And if Arthur was there, every one of these fuckers would burn.

Just as he rounded the corner behind one of the tents, he heard it. A groan. Unmistakeably Arthur.

A few men came out from various tents, trying to take cover and engage John in a long drawn out fight. He wasn't having that. He saw red. They were trying to take Arthur from him, his Arthur. He refused to lose him ever again. John took them out easily knocking one in the shoulder, and the other two in chest and head. At such close range they all went down easily. 

John rose to listen for any others mulling about needing to be taken down. Then sharp, white hot pain in his left side. John looked down at the hilt of the blade sticking out of his body, as the man withdrew the knife snarling in triumph. John lifted his arm and shot him in the throat, blood spattering on his face as the man dropped to the dirt with a gurgling noise.

John breathed heavily, holstering his guns and clutching his side, trying to put pressure but his hands were wet with blood. It was pouring out. _Fuck._ This was it, he knew that, but he couldn't give up yet. He still had to get to Arthur so he could at least make it out.

He didn't hear too many more men. A couple making a plan to amubush him in hushed whispers, but he stayed tucked behind some crates and as soon as they made a run, he shot them both in the head.

It was quiet then. John had to assume Micah was the one in the tent with Arthur, torturing him and causing him pain. No doubt he wouldn't leave it to anyone else, the sick bastard.

John slowly approached the largest tent, still holding his side with his left hand. Blood had leaked out of his wound, staining his entire side. He was starting to feel cold. _This ain't good. But just a little more._

He flung open the tent flap and there they were. Arthur with ropes around his wrists and ankles, tied to a pole in the center, his head slung down unconscious and Micah with his gun trained directly on John and a toothy grin on his face.

"Looks like I was wrong, Morgan," Micah spat in the dirt. "Someone came to save you after all. Too bad things are still gonna end the same way for you boys."

"A-Are-they now?" John struggled to speak.

"I believe-" Micah started but John pulled the trigger and the bullet struck him right between the eyes. He went down with a thud. John approached slowly, raising his gun again and shot him once, twice, three times until his head was a puddle of blood and tissue on the dusty ground.

Arthur was still unconscious as he walked back over to him, dropping his gun in the dirt, he pulled out his knife instead. 

"Please," John spoke, his voice weak and tired. He lifted Arthur's head with a hand under his chin. His eyes were closed and, though his face had sustained some damage at the hands of Micah, he looked peaceful. John gently placed his lips on Arthur's forehead. "Please" he repeated against the damp skin, moving to place his lips against Arthur's own in a soft kiss, but Arthur still didn't wake. 

He cut through the ropes at his feet first, supporting the weight of Arthur's body on his right shoulder as he cut through the ropes at his wrists. He slowly lowered them both to the ground, Arthur on his side and he on his back as he continued to bleed out. 

"Guess this is it." John's eyes slipped shut. "Thank you." He whispered as he vaguely heard the sound of gunshots.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lot longer than the others...oops. This is technically the end but there may be an epilogue with further explanation about what happened between the last chapter and this one. 
> 
> I'm not super happy with this story so apologies if it's just awful. I'm very rusty. :(

John cracked his eyes open, there's was bit of morning light shining through the window. He felt warmth radiating next to him as he took in the form beside him, pencil scratching away at the pages in the leatherbound journal.

"A-Arthur." His voice was weak and rough, more gravely than usual if that was possible. John leaned forward to sit up, wincing at the twist of his side, but Arthur put a hand on his chest.

"Stay down, Marston," He said quietly, a kindness to his voice. "You need to get some rest."

"What about you?" John's eyes scanned the bruises and cuts on Arthur's beaten skin. "Your face is all-"

"My face is all what?" Arthur said with mock offense. He chuckled as he closed the journal and set it on the nightstand. "I'll be fine. Don't you worry about me. Looks worse than it is."

"I can't believe I'm alive, that you're alive," John ran his hand through his hair expecting dirt and grime but it was clean and his fingers slipped right through it. "What happened exactly after I passed out?"

"We can talk about it later," Arthur brushed him off. "Like I was sayin' you need to get some more rest."

"You don't hate me no more then?" John asked suddenly, a sad look in his eyes.

"I ain't ever hated you, Marston, you're my family." Arthur sighed and turned towards John on his side.

John's heart warmed at that. "But you was mad at me...for years...when I left." He pointed out in quiet voice. "I know I left Abigail and Jack and you thought that were selfish of me, maybe it was, but I-"

"I weren't mad at you for leaving Abigail and Jack." Arthur interrupted him, sighing. "They were fine. They had the gang. I was mad at you for leaving me."

John let out a breath. "You? B-But why?"

"Because." Arthur answered without actually answering.

"Ohhhh," John replied sarcastically. There was silence for a beat. "You gonna answer me or not?"

"Not." Arthur smiled, rolling back onto his back and grabbing the journal off the nighstand again. "Now go back to sleep."

John reached over and placed his hand on the man's arm. "Thanks, Arthur."

Arthur put his hand on top of John's, giving it a squeeze, as John's eyes fluttered closed.

\---------

When John woke up in the darkness Arthur was gone. For a moment he thought it had all been a dream, but there was an ache in his side that he couldn't have possibly dreamt up. He reached out to the empty space on the bed, it was still warm and still smelled of him, all gunpowder and herbs and spice.

"Arthur!" He called out into the dark.

The door slammed open almost as soon as the name left his mouth and Arthur slid in, a mug in his hand. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'. I just woke up and you wasn't here." John looked away, a little embarrassed, now that he realized he had probably worried Arthur.

But he just chuckled, walking over and handing him the mug. "Don't you worry. I'm right here. Now drink this. It'll help with the pain."

The mug was hot and even inhaling the steam from it made John feel better instantly. He took a small sip. The herbal minty taste made him feel calm.

Arthur struck a match and lit the candle sitting on the nightstand. The bed dipped as he sat down on the other side, waiting for John to finish his tea. When he did Arthur took the cup, leaning over him to place it on the nightstand.

There was a silence for a moment before Arthur spoke.

"I was awake, you know. Barely, but I remember." Arthur looked him in the eye meaningfully.

"Remember what?" John asked with a confused look.

" _You_ kissed me." Arthur said smiling. It sounded like an accusation, a playful one, but an accusation all the same. "Going and kissin' a man while he's unconscious and unarmed. Didn't think you were like that."

John startled. "I don't know what you're talking about." He muttered, looking away. 

In the soft candlelight Arthur could see John's cheeks tinge pink and his smiled widened. "I'm sure you don't." 

"Listen-" John looked up but Arthur cut him off, leaning down to press their lips together softly. John eagerly opened his mouth to Arthur as he licked at his bottom lip. Arthur was kissing him, HIM. He felt as though he were still in a dream.

Arthur pulled back for a moment, cupping the scarred side of John's face, slowly sliding his thumb from his stubbled jaw down his neck. He watched the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed, the stutter of his chest as his breathing hitched.

"Arthur," John whispered, suddenly all of his emotions rushed forward. The shock of having Arthur back in his life, ending Micah, finding Arthur beaten and bruised, having his feelings realized after so long. "I almost lost you...again..." He choked, willing the tears not to fall. "I c-can't-"

"Hush." Arthur leaned down to place another soft kiss on his lips. "That's all over now, Johnny. I'm here and I ain't goin' nowhere else."

John leaned up to capture Arthur's mouth in another kiss, pulling him down by the neck. Arthur took John's bottom lip between his teeth, lightly sucking on it and running his tongue over it until John was moaning into his mouth.

"You're lookin' a little flushed there, John." Arthur pulled at the buttons on his union suit. "Why don't we get you out of this? Wouldn't want you overheating."

Arthur started undoing the buttons, pulling John up to remove his arms from the sleeves. John visibly winced at the stretch of his body. 

Arthur noticed and froze, concern evident on his face. "Maybe we shouldn't be doing this. You need to rest."

John leaned up again kissing down his neck as he took Arthur's hand and placed it on his clothed erection, hot and hard. "Does it look like I need rest?" 

Arthur groaned, his own hardness twitching in response. "You _sure_? We ain't gotta do this right now."

"Arthur," John took his hand in his, threading their fingers together and squeezing. "I ain't never been more sure of anything in my life."

John surged forward, slotting his mouth with Arthur's. Releasing his hand, John pulled Arthur's shirt out from his pants, working at the buttons as he continued to lick and kiss his mouth.

Arthur shrugged out of his unbuttoned shirt, pulling back a moment to look at John. He placed his hand over John's heart. "Wanted this...you...a long time. Probably longer than I shoulda."

John smiled shyly. "The -uh- feeling's mutual." He said awkwardly and pushed him back softly. "Now get out of those clothes would ya?" 

John slid his union suit the rest of the way down his legs, leaving himself fully exposed as Arthur stood to unbuckle his belt and remove his jeans. John's eyes followed every movement, every inch of newly exposed skin. Sure they'd seen each other naked or nearly naked before many times while at camp, but he'd never had a moment to appreciate Arthur's form, this was different. His skin was smooth and where it wasn't there were scars, some small, some larger, but they were all unique and all Arthur. 

"What're you lookin' at?" Arthur asked rejoining John on the bed, his erect cock bobbing with the motion. He had finished undressing sometime during John's daydreaming.

John didn't answer as Arthur laid down to his right side leaning down to kiss him passionately. His tongue slid against John's lower lip until he opened up for him and their tongues met, soft gentle licks at first, then deeper until they had to part for air, breathing heavily. 

Arthur's hand came up to gently close around John's neck, slowly he began to move his hand down, kissing and licking the trail of exposed skin, his neck, his chest, his stomach, down to the base of his cock. His fingers slowly closed around it as he brought his lips to the head, pressing a soft kiss and licking the slit. John moaned, his cock twitching from the small bit of pressure. He was a bit embarrassed by how loud he was at one simple touch but to see Arthur with his mouth on John's cock, he'd never been so hard in his life.

Arthur licked up the shaft, taking the head into his mouth, lightly sucking. John grasped at the sheets. He knew he wouldn't last long. Every small movement of Arthur's hot, wet mouth was like fireworks in his belly. Arthur bobbed his head a few times, pausing to release John's cock and lick from the base to tip, tongue flattening on the underside as John let out a shaky breath. "A-Arthur...God you feel so good." Arthur groaned around him in pleasure and John's cock throbbed in his mouth at the vibration.

"Come here," John said, pulling Arthur up into a kiss. Arthur ground their erections together, causing them both to groan into each others mouths. John's cock was still slick from Arthur's mouth and the feeling of Arthur's heavy, hard cock against his was too much. John thrust up against Arthur once more, letting out a whine as he spilled himself between them. 

"Fuck, John." Arthur grunted as he continued to grind himself down through John's orgasm. The slickness from John's release felt too good and soon Arthur was coming with a growl, his cock twitching as his release joined John's between their bodies. He nearly collapsed on top of him, but thinking better of his injury, he rolled off to the side. 

Both of them were silent as their breathing slowly changed from heavy pants to calm, even breaths. John reached over and took Arthur's hand, twining their fingers together.

"Well," He paused. "I think we wasted a lot of years."

"How was I s'posed to know you wanted this?" Arthur asked, thumb idly tracing over John's fingers. "Not like you ever said anything."

"You never said anything neither!" John shouted, realizing it was louder than he meant he quieted down. "How _did_ you know anyway?"

"I told you, I remember you kissin' me." Arthur smirked. "And there was that thing in the bath..."

"What thing in the bath?" John's eyebrows shot up.

"When I got you back here, well, I had to clean you up. You were a real mess y'know." Arthur's smirk grew impossibly wider. "You were covered in blood and dirt and God knows what else. Had to make sure your wound was clean."

"And?" John was already losing his patience and Arthur was clearly loving every minute of it.

" _And_ when I was cleaning you, I saw your _reaction_ to me." Arthur chuckled, squeezing John's hand.

"I WAS UNSCONCIOUS!" John shouted. He was embarrassed by his treacherous body.

"Part of you wasn't." Arthur's smile was as wide as his face.

"What makes you think that was about you? It was a natural reaction to what you was doing." John tried to reason, though his face was tinged pink.

"You was moanin' my name as I washed you." When Arthur laughed, such a joyous sound. John couldn't even pretend to be mad anymore.

John batted a hand at Arthur, leaning towards him a little and resting his head on his shoulder. He looked down at their stomachs and Arthur's eyes followed his line of sight to their combined seed starting to dry against their skin. 

"Looks like you could use another bath." He smirked as he stood up from the bed and held out a hand for John.

**Author's Note:**

> There's more coming soon. Will tag more/fix the summary as this continues. Not sure where it's going and haven't written in years but I can't get enough of these two. Hope I'm not too rusty :o


End file.
